WASSAILING 'WALL•E'

Mixing an incalculable charm with a perfect display of the buoyancy of the human spirit and a reverence for cinematic science fiction, “Wall·E” is a voyage into the future of mankind, seen delicately through the eyes – or lenses – of robotkind. Devoid of any of the cheap tricks populating many films of late, the only cliché to be found here is the tradition of cinematic excellence from producer Pixar Animation Studios, aptly continued and perhaps bounded by this title. It is no overstatement to say that “Wall·E” is in contention for a position as one of the best motion pictures of the year.

The story begins on Earth, encrusted with the remnants of a civilization whose mission for the planet was one of “usage.” A cityscape reveals astronomically large shopping centers, banks, and skyscrapers, now abandoned and dwarfed only by dense monoliths of refuse. The titular character – a “Waste Allocation Load Lifter – Earth class” – is a quirky robot left behind as the last inhabitant of the planet and whose mission as a roving trash compacter has evolved in the interminable centuries since humanity left for a life in space. His cybernetic eyes now find wonderment in the simple gifts left among the desolate wasteland. Every item of refuse is new to him, full of mystery of reason and intent – a cigarette lighter, an egg beater, a VHS cassette – “trash-become-treasures,” resurrected to a new purposefulness: the joy of discovery.

The arrival of a sleek, birdlike robot by the name of Eve – an “Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator” – reveals the tenor of humanity living beyond in space. Sent back to Earth to search for signs of life, the robot soon encounters Wall·E, who falls head-over-tracks for the iPod-like visitor. Their relationship is casual, at best, until Wall·E reveals one of his unique discoveries: a tiny green plant, carefully transplanted into a boot. The narrative then ascends into a cosmic voyage back to humanity, and on the way, no short exploration of self-discovery and transcendence of the human – or robotic – spirit.

It would be difficult to distribute enough superlatives for the cinematic artistry that Pixar has placed on display here. Their panache in handling weighty themes nearly belittles other films brushing the same subjects. The same sense of global responsibility so verbosely espoused in “An Inconvenient Truth” is instilled in “Wall·E” with far less dialog, a great deal more ardency, and infinitely more sincerity. And the indelible appreciation that the Pixar team displays here for cinema and science fiction preceding them – “2001,” “ET,” “Alien,” “Independence Day,” “Star Trek,” and “Brazil,” among many others – is incredible. These films are venerated in “Wall·E,” sometimes only by a subtle camera angle or art detail; each a loving allusion and thanks for the lessons those films taught and learned.

The technical values behind this film are also improbably fantastic. The visual presentation is a savory treasure, besting previous Pixar titles, which, as always, were the reference standards of visual excellence until now. The voices of the robots and the aural backdrop of this film are majestically conjured by legendary sound designer Ben Burt, who, having received an honorary Oscar for his work on “Star Wars,” should expect to receive a second for this film, and probably to have every other accolade available from his film sound peers heaped upon him and his team as well.

While “Wall·E” isn’t a perfect motion picture, it is as close as any film can really get. It is a compelling story, a visual symphony, an aural masterpiece, and a voice of quiet but sincere hope for life on the planet Earth.